


Petals

by Raediant



Series: Things That Fall [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: I Don't Even Know, M/M, My First Fanfic, Other, Post Reichenbach, Reichenbach Feels, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 01:36:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raediant/pseuds/Raediant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John arrives home from a day at the surgery to find a bouquet of flowers on the kitchen table.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Petals

**Author's Note:**

> First fanfic, so take it easy on me? First installment of a series that will be based off of this [poem](http://24.media.tumblr.com/132a61b85d1013a7f053f1ca4dd4e70f/tumblr_mhng7b6fYg1rr28cso1_500.png)  
> Beta'd by my lovely friend Courtney.

As the door closed behind him, he paused at the landing of the stairs. His hands came up to lightly scrub at his face before he started heading up. He had almost been ready to move out of 221B, afraid that his meager earnings from working at the surgery wouldn’t be enough to cover the rent. Though he should have known Sherlock would have given him money to keep his, _their_ , home on Baker Street. It had taken him a few weeks before he could face the flat again, but Mrs. Hudson had been more than happy to have him back. And of course, as if on cue, Mrs. Hudson popped out of her door as he walked up the first few steps.

“Oh, John, dear, flowers came for you earlier. I didn’t want the poor things to wilt so I went to the trouble of putting them in a vase on the table upstairs. Also left some biscuits up there for you, I thought you could do with some sweets.” She smiled softly at him from the banister as he climbed towards the door. 

He was barely tuning into what she was saying, and was much more interested in getting a cuppa and settling down for the night. But he returned a tight smile of his own and muttered his thanks before disappearing behind the door. Turning towards the kitchen he let his bag fall onto the table top, settling next to the dust-covered microscope that still occupied the table. His gaze deftly avoided looking at said scientific instrument, instead landing on the kettle while his fingers flipped the switch to heat the water. 

Settling his hands on the table while he waited, he leaned in towards the bouquet, admiring the exotic flowers that made it up. It was odd, receiving an arrangement like this. Though he guessed it was the usual suspect, Sarah, who occasionally sent him a few flowers to ‘brighten up’ the place. A small chuckle pushed against his lips as he shook his head. Maybe she was getting tired of the roses and lilies she normally would pick out for him. And the note? Well, that was completely new for her. 

Plucking the small envelope that was nestled in its leaves, he froze. The elegant, slanted script on the card, which very simply spelled out only _‘John’_ , was a little too familiar. He held his breath as he ripped open the envelope, eyes scanning the scrawl of words across the ivory paper.

_John,_  
 _I am so deeply sorry._  
 _SH._

His fingers trembled slightly as he reread the note for a fourth time. There was no mistaking that handwriting. John had seen it thousands of times before on lab specimens and labels on body parts in the fridge. But… it couldn’t be. The owner of that particular script was long dead, buried nearly two years ago. 

As he placed the card carefully on the table, his mind reeled. Maybe someone took the time to mimic it, someone who wanted to get under John’s skin and shake him up good. Perhaps it was some twisted soul’s idea of getting a good laugh. Hell, it could just be a practical joke from someo-

The floorboards creaked behind him and instantly, every muscle in his body tensed. He quietly grabbed a knife left on the table before spinning around and facing the perpetrator. Raising the knife, he drew in a breath, ready to scream at whoever had broken into the apartment. Just as he was about to speak, his eyes landed on none other than the consulting detective himself. 

For a long moment, John’s heart stopped. Pale eyes watched his face while the knife clattered to the floor. Sherlock took a tentative step forward, placing himself directly in front of John as he started to speak, “John, I-“

John’s fist connected solidly with Sherlock’s face. Completely dazed, Sherlock stumbled backwards a few steps. His fingers lightly stroking where the punch had landed as wide eyes looked back to the enraged John before him. “For two _bloody_ years, Sherlock! Two _years_ I thought you were dead!”

Sherlock’s hands dropped back to his side as he once again headed towards John, “I’m sorry, John. I wanted to tell you, I did. But I had to f-“

“No. No. I don’t care what…” He shut his eyes tight, head shaking as his fingers balled into fists at his sides. “It doesn’t matter… You were…I just…You were _dead_ , Sherlock. You were dead, and I was here, alone.” He opened his eyes, sadness weaved into his irises as he looked back to Sherlock.

Taking a final step, Sherlock planted himself barely a foot away from John. His gaze swept over his flatmate, taking everything in. From the way his clothes hung looser on his form, to the wrinkles that had become more prominent around his mouth, and the deep colouring of bags underneath his eyes. His voice came out a level lower as he hoarsely said, “John.”

It was a quick flurry of arms as they wrapped around each other. John buried his face into the fabric of Sherlock’s coat as they each lost their breath from the force of the hug. They stood there for a few minutes, neither saying a single word. 

John cleared his throat, giving Sherlock a final squeeze before taking a step back. As he backed into the table, the flowers shook and a single petal fell onto the tabletop.

**Author's Note:**

> Alrighty folks. Like I said, this is my first fanfiction. That being said, any and all constructive criticism and/or comments are much appreciated.  
> Also, I re-watched Reichenbach fall for this and nearly cried. Again. SO BE THANKFUL.
> 
> But seriously, was fun to write and looking forward to doing more works!


End file.
